Soft words
by Alexiamorana
Summary: After leaving Redcliffe, Alistair approaches the Grey Warden in camp. one-shot. Alistair/Mahariel. M. Warden's 1st POV


Hullo all. So I've actually not beaten DA:O yet. This one-shot is kinda based on my own characters' experiences with Alistair, with some minor details switched around. Enjoy! And please comment (nicely)

* * *

_At least the boy isn't dead_, I thought. But as the footfalls of my party members echoed behind me as we departed the village, I became acutely aware of one particular sound - the heavy clack of longsword against oak shield. The templar, Alistair, with whom I had shared the most words up until now, gloomed behind the others. He would not have agreed with any of my decisions, and did not with the one I had made just hours before. The brief encounter with his long-lost sister just now had not improved his attitude, although I prayed that he would dwell upon the advice I gave him afterwards.

My decision to allow the mage to use his blood magic was something Alistair would probably not quickly forgive of me, but I saw no alternative. It would have been days, weeks more if we had left the village and gone out to seek other help. I could not have killed the boy because even I knew that he had done nothing wrong. It was the mages' doing and so be it that the mother had aided the situation. I would have snapped back at Alistair, questioning what he would have me do instead, but he probably wouldn't have any other option, either, so it was better that he kept his mouth shut as our own mage entered the Fade to confront the possessing demon.

Now as we traveled, Leliana teased Morrigan about the size of her breasts and how pretty she would look in a dress. The painted wardog walked at my side; I was pleased to have acquired him, the poor thing lost after its king was killed in battle.

So many had fallen in Ostagar, including a man I barely had the chance to know, the one who initiated me into the Grey Wardens – Duncan.

I glanced back for a moment, with a hand at the hilt of my own sword, to briefly catch Alistair's distracted gaze. A mix of anger and sorrow filled his eyes and I looked away when the pang in my heart nearly pierced my chest. I let my thoughts leave me until we found a place to camp for the night.

Morrigan and Leliana each had their turns speaking with me about what had transpired and where we should proceed now. I wondered how I had become the automatic leader of our ragtag troupe. Alistair was the seasoned one, a Grey Warden before myself, and he knew the politics and ways of humans. Sometimes I still felt my elven lineage weighing down upon me, although I could never let this show to the others, especially those with whom I had to speak and make deals on a daily basis.

After the others had retired to their own tents for the night, I was left alone at the fireplace, the dog not far from me, awake for any signs of unwelcomed visitors. I had taken off my equipment and armor in my tent, now standing before the warm flames in my traditional simple dark green linen garments. When I heard the distinct sound of Alistair's clanking armor, I turned my head to watch him emerge from the woods. I was ready for him to ignore me and I almost turned away when he said my name, eyes wide and shockingly fierce.

"I want to talk to you about what happened in Redcliffe," he said, approaching me with long strides. He stopped just a foot away, one side of his face illuminated by the fire. "How could you have let that mage perform blood magic?"

I crossed my arms to myself, feeling suddenly cold despite the fire at my side. I was exhausted from the day, mentally and physically weary and I barely knew what to say to this man anymore. "Alistair, what would you have had me do? Either allow the mother to sacrifice herself for her son, or kill the boy myself. I was not about to kill a child, you know that. It worked out well in the end, didn't it? The demon was destroyed without anyone else unwillingly harmed in the process. And now that the boy is safe and under care, we can look for a way to save the Arl, yes?"

He paused a moment before answering. "I – yes, I suppose you're right. At least we saved one life and you did what was best that could be done. I'm sorry, I don't mean to question your leadership."

I laughed under my breath, casting my eyes from him to the fire and again wondered when I became the designated leader. He noticed and asked me what was so funny.

He was smiling now, the playful and joking man that I had come to know on our journey so far. "Nothing, Alistair. Is there anything else you want to talk to me about? It's late."

"Well, yes, I – yes, there is actually, but it can wait until some other time."

There was a note of hesitation in his voice which peaked my curiosity. "No, tell me now. If you don't want to talk out here, we can sit in your tent."

I wished then that I could have proposed a visit to said tent under different circumstances, considering that I had already won his affections with my inquires into his family. The little trinkets I had found along our path didn't hurt my chances, either. I remembered then that I was keeping his mother's locket in my pocket and meant to give that to him tonight. But I kept it to myself for now, curious as to what he wished of me under the dark cloud-covered moon.

The slightest blush overtook his cheeks and I recalled asking him if he had ever, you know, had the chance in the chantry. He had thought about it, he said, but he never did. When I told him I thought it was cute that he was still a virgin, he relaxed and we were one step closer.

He nodded and led me around the campfire and under the heavy canvas flap. We settled opposite each other in the small area, he cross-legged and I kneeling. I wondered if he would take off his armor; it made me more tired just looking at it.

"So what is it, Alistair? Are you worried about something?"

"That depends," he said. He turned slightly to the side to flip over a blanket, revealing a single long-stemmed thorny dark red rose. He removed his thick leather gloves and tossed them aside. He held the rose out between us with such delicacy, I couldn't help but chuckle through my nose and smile, biting my bottom lip delicately.

Alistair's eyes were bright, reflecting the little light from the fire and that of the candle that had been burning softly beside his makeshift bed. He told me he found it in Lothering, how it was the single most beautiful thing among so much death and hopelessness.

"I want to give this to you," he said. "It reminded me of you when I found it."

"Alistair… thank you," I said. He held the rose out further to indicate I should take it and I did, cradling it in my lap. It was in perfect condition, the petals still delicate and soft, thorns sharp and the end of the stem slightly moist from when he must have placed it in water – most likely in his canteen. I was honestly surprised to receive this after he just reprimanded me about the use of blood magic.

"If you don't mind, I'd let to get past this embarrassing giggling stage and onto the steamy bits."

"I think I'm the giggly one here, Alistair, despite my tough façade as the leader of our troupe and a fellow Grey Warden. Alright, off with your armor then," I declared, playing along. Although we both knew at this point that this was no longer a game. It never really was.

"You should probably get some sleep," Alistair said, again more serious. His voice gave away the obvious desire that I would refuse, but I agreed, yet with the full intention of returning.

I tucked the rose into my sleeve, close to the pocket where the slim silver chain was hidden. Should I give it to him now? I wondered. My fingers slipped over the delicate metal and I retrieved the small piece of jewelry, dangling it out before me.

"I have something for you, as well, Alistair," I said.

"Oh, it's like our birthdays but there still hasn't been any dessert!" When he recognized the necklace and took it from me gently, I told him I found it in the castle earlier. The Arl must have cared for him, I remarked. The memories and utter sadness covered by a weak smile nearly broke my heart and I suddenly regretted this gift-exchange. He was happy, though, having thought that this last artifact of his mother's was long-gone. Clutching the locket tightly in one hand, he reached out with the other to my cheek and kissed me softly in thanks.

"I never thought anyone listened to me when I complained about silly things. We haven't been having the greatest time out and no one really appreciates what we're doing. I whine and say so many stupid things, I'm surprised that you've kept me along."

"Alistair, you mean quite a deal to me and it's been so nice traveling with you. Don't think I can't overhear your conversations with the others. Like asking Leliana if she was a woman. Of course I listen to you, and I want you to stay by my side during this. And I promise that in the future, no matter what you chose, you have my support." I was thinking about the chance he would become king; I would not be allowed to rule beside him. It would be heart-breaking.

"Like I said, onto the steamy bits now, that would be wonderful," he laughed. "Didn't you agree to go to sleep?"

This joking distraction was his way of not knowing what else to say; he _was_ embarrassed. Cute.

"Yes, I did say that. Get some rest, Alistair. I'll be waking you up soon enough."

I stood and smiled back down at him once before departing, returning to my tent. I removed the rose from my sleeve, placing it alongside my sword which lay beside my sheets. I knelt down for a moment, considering again if I should go back to Alistair. Crossing my arms over my knees, I lay down my head and smiled uncontrollably, deciding to wait at least half an hour before sneaking back to Alistair's tent.

I never would have expected that love could be found on a journey such as ours. But we were a good troupe, each held his own and protected the rest. No one was dead yet, and I was proud of that. Alistair kept up his foolishness and laughter even after witnessing so much death and coping with that of an old friend and surrogate father. His willingness to approach me in camp, seeing me as more than a fellow Warden and leader, but as a friend, an ally, a _woman_ whose heart was still soft and could match his when it came to inexperience.

Finally, I stood, and as quietly as I could with bare feet and no adornments gracing my skin, I left my own tent for Alistair's. The campfire had been extinguished so I trusted my elven eyes. Nevertheless, I felt weak and scared and silly, a dichotomy to what I portrayed and how I felt on the battlefield.

He must have blown out the candle because I saw no light and his tent was utterly still; there was no sound of rustling or snoring. Reaching out and slightly bent down, I pushed aside the heavy canvas flap and looked inside. The man within now lay bare-chested on his side away from me with an arm curled under his head atop a jumble of fabric - worn clothes most likely. I noticed the hem of his trousers lying low on his hips, a cotton blanket messily tossed over his legs. He had a warrior's body, muscular and firm from training and battle. I entered, allowing the flap to fall back behind me. I dared not even breathe for fear of disturbing his rest, but he sighed and flipped over, eyes open with the faintest smile.

My vision was better than his in the dark, but I knew that he still recognized me. He blinked, squinting, trying to make out my form in the darkness.

"What are you doing here?

He stretched, crossing his arms behind his head and his bare feet poked out from under the blanket.

"I thought I'd let myself back in, if you didn't mind," I said, stepping to his side. I knelt down beside him and he freed one arm to reach for my hip as I leaned down and claimed a kiss.

I pulled away after a moment to sit up straight and he asked, "This is what you had in mind? What happened to wanting to get some sleep?"

"That was your suggestion, not mine, Alistair," I said, placing a hand over his still attached to my hip.

"But I obviously didn't _mean_ it. It's true we all need our beauty sleep but we could become more beautiful twice as fast if we did it together."

"Did what exactly?"

"Do you remember the part where I was embarrassed and awkward?"

"Very clearly, yes," I said. I tugged the blanket away and shifted myself over, one knee at a time, hiking up my long tunic in an effort to straddle the man in the pitch darkness.

He perched himself up on his elbows, cocking his head. "Damn, I should have run when I had the chance."

"Even if you tried to now, there wouldn't be anywhere to go. And you know that I would be able to find you quite easily."

"Oh, Maker's Mercy, what did I ever do to deserve this?" He let out an exaggerated sigh and collapsed back, arms haughtily placed behind his head. Recalling our previous conversations in which he revealed to me he had never slept with a woman, I sensed that this motion was a cover-up of his inexperience.

I lowered myself to embrace the man against the floor, my nose brushing against the slightest stubble that I knew he would shave the next time we made camp.

Hesitant hands lay lightly at my waist and he muttered, "I thought this was when we were supposed to strip down as quickly as possible. Someone out there lied to me!"

I propped myself up just enough to steal a second kiss, running a hand down his chest to his trousers, cupping him tightly though the fabric. He tried breaking his head to the side with a throaty groan and indistinguishable utterances but deepening kisses kept him distracted. He fisted the fabric at my hips, at first unsure what to make of it, and then gradually pulled it up to bunch and drape at my waist. Goosebumps tingled up my legs and lower back and I scooted back to allow him to tug the rest of my garment up and over my head to toss aside atop the blanket.

"I wish I could see you," he said. He had never seen a fully nude woman before, let alone one right above him. I pulled away and sat up straight, tightening the hold between my thighs. My lower undergarment was the only piece covering anything Alistair could not see even if he had the sight of a Dalish.

"Unfortunately, I'm not a mage and cannot summon fire at will. And if we asked Morrigan for a quick favor-"

"-she might swoop down on us and curse you with an ugly snout and she'll take me away to be cast in some boiling cauldron of her mother's. She said they got visitors, you know, _ unwilling ones_."

I tried to stifle our resulting laughter with another kiss, hands firm on Alistair's chest, his hands back on my waist. But I couldn't help but continue laughing and mutter into his mouth, "While that was not what I was going for, I'm sure it would be true if we gave her the chance. So for now, feeling with your hands is going to have to do."

His fingers flexed along my skin, unsure where to go or what to do, if he should take more time or take off everything that was left between us.

As I trailed needy kisses from his mouth to jaw to neck, he said, "You know what I like the most about you? Your walk. You have a very distinguished walk."

" 'Distinguished?' Or is it just that you like looking at my ass? Is that why you prefer to follow, so you can have something nice to look at?"

"I – no! I mean – it's a very nice – you're quite lovely, you know. But that – not exactly… sorry."

I kissed his flushed cheeks as he whispered, "I hope I'm not disappointing you."

"No, no, not at all. Why would you think that? Just listen to our bodies. You're wonderful, Alistair."

Another solid kiss sealed his fate tonight and from there, fumbling hands and trailing lips guided each motion, accompanied by increasing heart rates and hitched breaths. Remaining garments were discarded and the fury of the blade with gritted teeth was replaced by a soothing touch and subtle caresses.

He feared breaking me, feared letting me down. It was the same fear that was the reason behind his unwillingness to lead our little troupe. It had been left up to me to be the leader and guide us on our quests, just as I now had to guide Alistair through these motions that I knew would soon become ritual.

Alistair lay over me with my legs curled up around his hips, his hand squeezing my breast and lips lost in the crux of my neck. I ground up against him, urging him on to stop delaying and be _in_ me. His lips and fingers had traced every inch of my body accompanied by whispers of 'You're beautiful' and 'I am a lucky man.' I sighed his name, proclaiming that I wanted him so "Please just … do it."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, I promise."

"This isn't too soon?"

"I think it's a little too late to be asking that. I told you, _I want you with me_."

Another kiss and I guided him into me. Hearing how much I wanted and needed him, and in so many other ways than what we were doing now, gave his heart the strength to pursue this. With the same fervor that others pray to their Maker, I hoped that Alistair would listen to his heart from now on instead of chose a path of being dutiful. But I knew that if his heart had not overtaken, he would not have agreed to this tonight. A relationship would not be wise when one or the other might die at any moment. And yet we both _knew_, as much as one can really _know_ in a situation like ours, that we would endure through this Blight and hold our new-found bond sacred.

He was hypnotized by my gaze, his own eyes soft and his motions gentle, kissing me every so often as he thrust, picking up pace but always looking at me. Hitched breaths were lost in the air and I knew that we would be looked at differently in the morning by the others. We came but lingered for moments on end as breaths slowed and I lowered my hands from his back to his forearms as he withdrew. He remained, smiling down at me brilliantly, easily finding my mouth again in the darkness.

I spoke his name in a sharp exhale and he replied with a "Yes, my dear?" to which I kissed him again. Declaring _love_ was not meant for tonight. Tonight we would sleep in peace in each others arms in his tent, this small area of complete comfort away from politics and the darkspawn and the unknown inevitable. I knew then, as Alistair and I lay on our sides, that we would have to talk about this in the morning. Where would _this_ take us and how long could it last?

Alistair's breath stained my neck and a soft wind threatened the canvas flap to expose us to the world. I took comfort in the warmth behind me, which overpowered the sudden gusts of cooler air from the night. Here, it was silent and still as the man now slept with the knowledge that we would protect each other as more than fellow Wardens. If any Maker did exist, it had become witness to defiers; our love stated that we _will_ survive, and in so doing, we will purge this world of the darkness too many had become accustomed to.


End file.
